Day 24- Hotel Las Olas, Puerto Escondido

Our next major town we were aiming for was San Cristobal de las Casas, up in the mountains of Chiapas. However, it was way too far to do in a single day, so we had to choose a location that was a sensible ride, but with a view to at least offering us an opportunity to enjoy the area. We didn’t just want to stop when we got tired as we might end up in a shitty little town like San Carlos back in Baja. Leason learnt, we now try to research where we are going and what sort of attractions there are so that when we are not on the bikes, we get to enjoy the scenery, the culture, and maybe a cold beer or 2. It looked like a town called Salina Cruz was about halfway and the last stop for us along the south Mexican coastline. We could go inland for an extra hour to make the following day’s ride to San Cristobal a little easier, but I fancied 1 more night on the coast before going into the mountains. I am expecting that the temperature will drop as we climb in altitude, but we might also get some rain, so it could be a double-edged sword.

So, with a plan for the ride in place, we got ourselves ready and departed relatively early. We stopped at the Zicatela sign to do a quick video and say our goodbyes to an awesome spot. I think Sayulita still takes my favourite spot so far, mainly because the beach was so great; I particularly liked the gold flecks in the sand and the water as you walk in through the breakers, and the fact that you can pretty much walk around the whole town of just 3 square blocks.

After my boot surgery, which I did not consider a success, I hadn’t been able to find some “cuero” (leather) to glue over the top of my left boot, nor had I found a bit of rubber that would be a suitable substitute, neither had we solved the issue with the screws on the front brake master cylinder so the front brakes had not been bled yet and mine were certainly more than a bit spongy. As such, we stopped at an AutoZone on the way out of town, picked up a much newer and more suitable screwdriver, complete with a socket spanner placement at the top of the shaft so we could get some proper leverage on the screwdriver if we needed to. As we were pulling out of the car park, I spotted a tyre repair shop on the side of the road and pulled up, took my helmet off and walked up to the young lad working there (working might be a bit to strong) and asked if I could have a bit of off-cut inner tube. Actually, I just picked up a big section from a car tire and gestured to him if I could have it. He initially looked at me like I was mad, but I showed him that I wanted to cover my boot where there was clearly a problem with my repair job. He must have thought that I was just a crazy gringo and let me have a big section, he even offered some scissors, but I was keen to get going and it would be a job for later as it was already getting pretty warm, and we had a big ride ahead of us. The ride was relatively uneventful, other than brutally hot. We did stop plenty of times and there were some nice sections of riding, we love the twisties and the girls love the twisties. It is great to ride a bike that you have confidence in, even if I have to be aware that my front brakes need to be treated carefully until I get the chance to sort them out to my satisfaction. We managed some drone footage over a very nice bay, but as I say, it wasn’t the most impressive route, particularly as we were travelling inland. If I haven’t already mentioned it, the 1 ball ache, literally, is that the Mexicans love to put a few speed bumps as you pass through a town, or a settlement. I get the point, they want drivers to slow down through populated areas where there are stray dogs, stray kids, and just about everything going on that you can fathom, including the odd cow that just walks across the road. However, these bloody speed bumps are not consistent. Some are nice and wide and whilst cars and trucks have to slow down, the motorbikes don’t. I don’t just mean our motorbikes; I mean the thousands of Mexican motorbikes that are everywhere. But some of the speed bumps are nasty bastards, being small and super steep, in some cases through degradation, you can hit a particularly solid block that has bits of rebar sticking out, bloody deathtraps. As such, you approach all the “bumpos” with caution, loads of caution. Anyway, I digress, we did eventually arrive at the town of Salina Cruz on the coast. However, it is a port town and there were loads of industrial activities going on and it did not look like the kind of destination that we thought it might. We obviously only saw the few nice photos of the town on google, and taken at just the right angle, because it looked really shit on our approach. Anyway, we were committed, and it was hot, bloody hot, so we decided this would be where we stay for the night. As there was no beachfront to speak of, we headed for the town square to collect ourselves and have a look at google for a hotel for the night. The town centre was pretty mad, but a very nice town square, that we rode all the way round looking for somewhere to park up to have a break in the shade. We did pull up in an area that had clearly been closed off, but there were 1 or 2 bikes in the area that was closed off, and we weren’t going anywhere other than to a nearby bench with some shade. Whilst checking the phone, at least 2 laud bangs went off. I don’t hang around guns much but having been drafted into the Air Force straight out of school and growing up in South Africa, I know what a gunshot is, and that sounded very much like a couple of gunshots. Not a single soul in the park flinched, not kids, not old people, not even the dogs, batted an eyelid. I looked at Jorik and sort of mouthed, “was that gunshot?”. Other than my relative inexperience around guns, Jorik does not suffer that little issue and he looked at me a said, “I’m pretty damn sure that was gunshots.” We started heading back towards the bikes to make tracks as we agreed that this was not where we wanted to be for the night. Not 5 seconds later, a bunch more gunshots went off and again, not a single person even looked up. We had found a City Express hotel (with a pool), about 20 minutes ride north of the town centre, along the road out of town, which would make the next morning’s start easier, so we were getting geared up to head off, when a Federale guy came up to us to tell us to move the bikes along and that we were not supposed to be parked there. Not a care in the world, it’s not like a bunch of gunshots in a public square had just gone off. Anyway, we loaded up and were quick to get the hell out of dodge. Jorik still had the benefit of his mobile phone service, so we had google maps up, which was directing us to the hotel. Bizarrely, it turned us into a shopping mall car park, where there was a hotel, which looked like a corporate type of arrangement. Not what we were expecting, but we parked up and went into ask about a room. They guy was pretty helpful, but as he explained there was no pool, we knew we had the wrong place. So, we jumped back on the bikes and rode a little further out of town until we found it, right on the outskirts of the town. It was actually cheaper than the previous option, still a little dear, but it did have a pool and we were knackered and hot. After a swim to cool off, and a little chill out time, we jumped on the bikes to head back towards town to find some food. The shopping mall looked like it might offer something other than just tacos, so we went to check it out. I also needed to pick up some glue for my boot repair job as I now had the rubber to fit. We found a Chinese buffet arrangement in the mall, I know, Chinese food in Mexico is a bit odd, but hay ho. So, dinner done, we headed into the massive Walmart that was the anchor for the shopping mall. Sure enough, superglue was available, and we picked up some water and snacks as there was little opportunity for that sort of stuff near the hotel, other than an expensive vending machine. Back at the hotel, I set about with my repair job. I trimmed the rubber to the right shape, well close enough, and got 2 tubes of superglue out, they are only tiny, and Jorik got the camera gear ready to capture this final stage of the boot surgery masterclass. The boot is quite big, so I had dragged over a char from the hotel room to place it on, whilst I sat on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t a very big room. So, with bits ready, I proceed to open the 1st tube of super glue. It requires that you puncture the top with the spout jobbie and as I pierced it, the superglue sprayed all over my hand, sticking my fingers together and pissing all over the chair and of course my boot. I know that superglue goes off really fast and we had such a limited amount, I wanted to get as much on the boot as possible, so I started spreading it around the tow of the boot as best I could, whilst trying to flex my hand to stop my fingers from sticking. At the same time, Jorik was opening the other tube to spread the glue on the rubber, which we would then carefully stick to the boot, and he too pissed superglue all over his hand, the floor, but most of it went on the rubber. We got the rubber placed, but of course the glue was so thin and watery that it had by now slipped down the boot away from where it should have been and dripped onto the chair. I might just add that the chair was a fabric chair that now had a motorcycle boot stuck to it in various places. The whole thing was a damn dog show, and I am embarrassed just writing about it. Anyway, I rushed off to try to wash the superglue of my hands as my fingers were proper stuck together, and by the time I got back, Jorik is in stiches as the boot is firmly stuck to the chair. I had to get the Leatherman out to cut the boot away from the fabric, which left a bunch of holes in the seat cover. I think the repair job was maybe not the best result I could have hoped for, but the rubber was stuck (for the most part) and I don’t think any water will get in when we get caught in the rain down the road.